


toe the line

by freedomatsea



Series: Historical Pieces [3]
Category: Frontier (TV 2016)
Genre: Against the Wall - Freeform, Angst, Cunnilingus, F/M, Love/Hate, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 20:07:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9564317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freedomatsea/pseuds/freedomatsea
Summary: Set during "The Gallows" picking up right after Chesterfield pins Grace against the wall.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a sick bastard, okay. I just want these two to bone.

His cheek stung from her strike. The woman had a swing on her. In the dull light of the lanterns he could see her own cheek burning red in the shape of his hand.

The threat of taking her hung heavily in the air between them. Her eyes were blown wide and Jonathan didn't know if it was because his fingers were still tightly curled around her throat or because she could feel his arousal pressing against her stomach.

“Not like this. Not like this Jonathan.” Grace whispered, he could feel the way she swallowed thickly beneath his palm.

“Then how do you propose that it be?” He questioned harshly. “A man has needs Grace.” Jonathan hated the way she made him feel. He'd always tried to be _above_ this. Above the needs that distracted him from his goals. But the way she danced around him and _played_ him had his body constantly aware of her and her alone.

Grace pressed her palms against his chest. “I can tell you have a need.” She gritted out, giving him a pointed look. “But anyone could rock in. Think of what people will think.”

“I'm tired of wondering what people will think, Grace.” He loosened his grip on her, brushing his fingers gently over the column of her throat. “Propriety has no place here.” Jonathan was a fool. Some part of him even knew that this was all a game for her and yet the louder part of him was screaming at him to be a man and take what he wanted.

“ _Jonathan_.”

“Shhh.” He crooned and pressed a finger to her lips. Her eyes widened and her lips parted in an effort to protest again, but he silenced her then with a kiss.

At first she went rigid beneath him. Lips parted but unmoving and every muscle in her body that was pressed against him was taught.

Carefully, Jonathan’s tongue darted out over her parted lips, seeking entrance and _that_ seemed to spark something within her. He half expected her to protest by clamping her teeth down on his tongue, but instead her own tongue swept out to meet his. She tilted her head, deepening the kiss. One hand curled around the back of his neck and the other bunching up the fabric of his shirt into her fist.

Grace moaned against his lips and it went straight to his cock. And so did her hand.

Jonathan broke away from the kiss, breathing raggedly as she palmed him through his trousers. “ _Grace_.” He groaned, rocking into her touch. “Fuck.”

“Don't talk.” She whispered, leaning back in to kiss him again, dragging her teeth over his bottom lip.

He sank into the kiss, their tongues warred for dominance, and she kept her hand on his cock, driving him mad.

Jonathan worked at the buttons of her blouse, fingers seeking out bare skin, cupping her breast through the thin undergarment he wore beneath her shirt.

Grace inhaled sharply as he circled his thumb around her nipple, her chest heaving slightly and her hand faltering. Which was a blessing in disguise because if she kept at it, this was going to be over far too soon.

He leaned down to brush his lips along her collarbone, trailing down over the swells of her breasts. “Your breasts might be the finest set I've ever laid eyes on.”

Grace snorted. “Bet you say that to all the women.”

“What women?” Jonathan retorted, pulling back to meet her gaze. “Have you seen me with any other women?” He questioned, shaking his head. “Grace…”

“If you're going to fuck me, just _fuck me_.” Grace remarked, her jaw clenching.

“Why do you resist me like this Grace?” Jonathan asked as his fingers tugged at the laces of her trousers, working to get them down her hips. He had plans to make her head spin. That would surely make _care_ even a fractional amount. “I could give you everything.”

“I don't want _anything_.” She hissed out, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Do you want this?” Jonathan retorted hotly, working his hand into her trousers then, cupping her sex. “Would you look at that? I think you do.” He chuckled, stroking his fingers over her through the thin fabric of her undergarment. “You're soaking wet Grace.”

Grace bit her lip and looked away. “A woman's body can betray her…” She let out a ragged breath, rocking into his touch. “ _Jonathan_.”

He leaned in and kissed her roughly, biting at her bottom lip as he teased her. He pushed aside her underwear, sweeping his fingers between her slick folds. Her body quivered in response, her hips rolling, seeking more contact.

Grace’s hand returned to his cock, stroking him through his trousers in time with the movements of his fingers. Jonathan brushed her hand away from him, before pulling his own hand out of her trousers.

“Take these off.” Jonathan ordered, the commanding tone making her lashes flutter. She looked like she wanted to defy him, but she ultimately did as he ordered, kicking her boots off and stepping out of her trousers.

“Thought you'd just turn me around and fuck me.” Grace glared at him. “What's your game?”

Jonathan didn't reply. He met her gaze and held it for a long moment, before he dropped to his knees before her. The look of shock on her face was _everything_. That was the look of a woman that never imagined having a man like him with his face between her thighs.

Her fingers pushed through his hair, grasping at the back of his head as his mouth descended upon her cunt. His tongue parted the delicate folds there, sweeping over that little bundle of nerves - making her cry out _his_ name.

Jonathan groaned her name into her sex, thrusting his tongue into her, making her grind herself wantonly against his face. He unlaced his trousers, freeing his cock from the nearly-painful confines of his pants. He gripped at his cock, pumping his fist over his length in an attempt to ease the need there.

Grace cried out, before she clamped her mouth shut, not wanting to call attention to their location. She came apart on his mouth, leaving his scruff glistening with her arousal as he sat back on his legs.

“ _Jesus Christ_.” She murmured, sagging back against the wall, her legs still trembling. “What was that for?”

“Because I want to make you feel good Grace.” He said quietly as he stood up. “This isn't a game for me. I truly _trust_ you.” Jonathan’s eyes held hers. “I want _you_.”

This time it was Grace silencing him with a quiet shush and a finger pressed to his lips. He nipped at her finger, his hands curling around her hips as he lifted her up, urging her legs around his hips.

She pushed at his trousers to get them further down his hips, her nails scraping over his back.

Jonathan rutted up against her cunt, watching the way she reacted, before he slipped into her.

Grace’s back bowed gracefully, pressing her shoulders back against the wall for leverage as she ground down against him. “ _Yes_!” She gasped out, gripping at his shoulder for support.

“You feel so fucking good Grace.” He hissed, nipping at her throat.

Grace snorted, “You're not so bad yourself  _Captain_.”

Jonathan gave a low chuckle at that. “Happy to please.” He ran his hand up her side, grasping at her breast. “Better keep it down. Wouldn't want your customers to think this _is_ a place of ill-repute.”

“Bastard.” Grace hissed, biting down on her bottom lip to keep from crying out. “Harder. _Harder_ Jonathan. Is that all you've got?”

He picked up the pace of his movements, slamming into her again and again, bottoming out with each stroke before he pulled out and repeated it again.

That was all it took to get her clenching around him. Her inner muscles fluttered tightly and his own pleasure reached its bursting point. He buried himself in her depths as his release spilled into her. He was dimly aware of the potential ramifications, but he was also aware that Grace was a clever girl.

Jonathan was reluctant to pull away from her, but did - slowly. He tucked his spent length back into his trousers and carefully studied Grace as she dressed and straightened her appearances.

“That's one way to calm a man down.” He remarked, fiddling with his cravat. “I barely feel the urge to go back out there and gut Malcolm.”

“Glad to be of help.” Grace rolled her eyes, “You've got to keep your eyes on the prize, Chesterfield. You want to be Governor? Then don't fucking murder for the hell of it.”

“He threatened me.” Jonathan reminded her. “Trust me. I'm not forgetting about what I want.” He looked down at the floor. “And with _whom_.” He shifted his weight from his heels to his toes and back. “I regret striking you, Grace.”

“Don't worry about it.” She dismissed, waving her hand. “I've had worse in my life.”

“It's just that I can think of no other woman I would rather spend the rest of-”

“Don't.” She shook her head. “It could never work between us. Not like that.”

“Do you love another man?” He tried to mask the hurt in his words, but given the look on her face - like he's struck her all over again - he hadn't done well at it.

“It's not _that_ . It's just better that I remain unattached. I'm not meant to be a wife and surely not _yours_.”

“But we fit together, Grace. You and I. Haven't we proven that just now?”

“Any man can drop anchor into any woman's port, but that doesn't mean they're meant to be married and have some future togethher. Not like you want.”

His fists clenched. “ _Right_. I see how it is.”

“It's a partnership of convenience. Nothing more.”

“Aside from the odd fuck against a wall, hmm?” He bit out. “You're no better than a conniving whore. You know that?”

Grace turned her back on him. “Go home Jonathan.”

“I'm _talking_ to you.” He nearly growled the words out.

“And I'm telling you to get the fuck out of my Alehouse.” She snapped. “Go sort out what Grant wants with Benton.”

He held still for a long, challenging moment, before he retreated. “I'll see you tomorrow Miss Emberly.”

“Goodnight Captain Chesterfield.”

God help him navigate this shite with her. He never was good at hiding his emotions, especially when it came to hated. And love and hatred toed a very thin line.


End file.
